Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly (otherwise I would be a billionaire by now, sigh). J.K. Rowling owns all the characters and parts of the plot.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and I've changed my mind and added the first chapter to the summary, this is because the drop down menu numbers the chapters and I don't want my first chapter to be numbered the second one, if you know what I mean. (yes, I know it's a trivial reason…)

Chapter 2 – Owlpost

Something hard and covered in fur was continuously hitting him on his left cheek, Dean conjured up an image of his sister hitting him with her teddy in an effort to wake him up and thought it was probably it. But when he finally opened his eyes, it took him some time to realise that it was actually an angry barn owl kicking him in the face; today's Prophet was curled up next to his pillow.

"Oh alright," grumbled Dean, as he got out of bed and yesterday's Prophet fell onto the floor; Rita Skeeter smiled mischievously up at him. Dean shuddered, hoping she had had the decency to leave her picture while he had slept.

He went to his desk drawer and took out a purple drawstring bag, in it were numerous galleons and several sickles and knuts. The owl hopped onto his desk and stuck out its leg, where a small pouch had been attached. Dean withdrew 5 knuts and placed them in the pouch, the owl gave him one last glare before it flew out of the window.

Cold air entered through the window and Dean quickly shut it, he had left his window open all during the holidays for the owl deliveries and his room could now compete with Artic temperatures.

Walking back over to his bed, he couldn't help feeling slightly happy when he stomped on Rita Skeeter's photo, but depression settled over him again as sat on the bed.

He had spent all night assessing his situation and had somehow drifted off to sleep in the middle of it, and now he reconsidered again.

He had no idea whether or not he was muggle-born or half-blood, he had asked his mother once and she had no clue either, and Dean couldn't help feeling that she was not particularly keen to elaborate on his dad's life.

Dean thought hard. He could just go to Hogwarts regardless of the whole blood-status requirements, but he could well be walking to his death. He could find evidence to prove that his dad was a wizard, but the prospect of finding a random wand of his dad's in this house seemed slim, if there was anything in this house relating to his dad, he would've taken notice of it by now. He could fabricate evidence, though he'd never be as good as Rita Skeeter, he thought, peeping at the newspaper on the floor.

On the other hand, he could forget about Hogwarts, which made his stomach lurch and his head hurt, but that would mean he'd have to leave this house and go into hiding, his family knew nothing about what was happening right now, and he didn't want to worry them or drag them into any trouble. If it became true that the ministry was going to interrogate muggle-borns, he couldn't stay in his house and wait for them to turn up.

'So…fabricate evidence or run away?'

The question kept coming up in his mind as if someone had set it so that it played on a loop purposely to annoy him.

With a sigh of frustration, Dean unfurled the Prohpet to focus his mind on other thingsand the headline immediately caught his attention, "WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE," underneath was a picture of his friend and fellow Gryffindor, Harry. Dean couldn't be bothered reading it, Harry was the last person to kill Dumbledore and no matter what the Prophet said, it would never change his mind. As he turned the page, Dean had the unsettling, but at the same time strangely comforting feeling that he wouldn't be the only one leaving Hogwarts this year.

On the next page the headline immediately leapt up at him, "MUGGLE-BORN REGISTER". It felt like an ice-cold hand had just reached into Dean and began squeezing his heart, he felt like he was suffocating and room temperature had just dropped several degrees. His worst fears had been confirmed.

He began reading the article in numb fervour.

"The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission."

Dean finished reading the last sentence of the article, his numb fervour had now turned into alarm and panic, 'But this means…'

He hurried to open his window, but as he stood up, an owl had already swooped past and was flying towards the window in the lounge room, Dean quickly hurried onto the landing, halfway down the stairs he heard his mother calling –

"Dean, there's an owl for you!"

The last step seemed like it would never come, when he finally approached the lounge room, his mother was standing beside the window she had just opened. An owl flew in and dropped a letter into his hands, on the back of the thick parchment was the official seal of the Ministry, he quickly hid this from his mother's view, but his heart was beating rapidly.

"Just a letter from Seamus," he said casually, in the direction of his mum. But as he was about to leave the room, another owl swooped in and dropped a scrap of parchment which fluttered leisurely in the air until he grabbed it. He recognised the friendly scrawl instantly –

"Ignore it, will talk to you later.

- Seamus

P.S. I don't suppose you still have your galleon?"

"Is something wrong?" asked Dean's mother, frowning, as she approached Dean, "Why are there so many owls?"

"Er…this one's from Neville, he's…uh…just wondering if we wanted to go get our N.E.W.T. books together," finished Dean hastily, stuffing the slip into his trouser pocket. However, his mother was not looking at him anymore, as her attention was caught by a third owl, which was hovering just outside the window, staring at Dean intently.

Dean blinked, 'Another letter?' He turned towards the window again, but the owl had vanished, and his mum was closing the window, mumbling something like "…don't want to get the chill in…been such a cold Summer."

But Dean wasn't paying attention, he was sure the owl had something to tell him by the way it had looked at him. An anxious curiosity rose in him.

Slowly, Dean made his way back to his room, his hand still clutching the letter from the ministry. When he entered his room his heart nearly stopped beating, a pair of golden eyes were staring at him.

The owl was looking at Dean as if to say, "Well, aren't you going to let me in?"

Dean quickly strode to the window and opened it, the owl fluttered in and rested on his shoulder, Dean was slightly disappointed, there was no letter attached to it.

"Well…er…so…" began Dean, feeling a bit awkward and wondering how he was going to talk to the owl when it was perched on his shoulder. But, the owl, as if reading his very thoughts, flew onto his desk and stood there, staring at him with unblinking, golden eyes.

Dean shut the door and walked over to his desk and took a seat, he placed the ministry letter and Seamus' message on the table next to the owl, then he looked the owl in the face.

For a moment it looked like the two were having a starring competition, if so, then the owl was definitely winning, for Dean had began squinting. But Dean was merely surveying the owl. It was a long-eared owl, the colour of tea with random black stripes down its chest and wings.

"Who sent you here?" asked Dean, after he had obviously lost the starring competition.

The owl gave no comment.

"Talkative little thing, aren't ya?" said Dean, but his mind was elsewhere, 'Who had sent this owl? Did someone want to spy on him…with an owl?"

Maybe the owl was a stray and it was hungry.

Cautiously, Dean opened his second drawer and pulled a half-devoured packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and poured a few beans out onto the desk. He then turned his attention to the ministry invitation. Fingering the envelope as if it were some delicate object, Dean gingerly peeled the seal and took a piece of thick parchment out, written neatly onto it with a sharp quill were the words:

"Dear Mr Thomas,

The Ministry of Magic of Magic is undertaking a new survey of Muggle-borns to better understand how they came to possess magical potential.

We have received intelligence that you are one of the so called "muggle-borns," hence we keenly invite you to present yourself for interview to the newly-appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission to assist with our research.

Please present yourself prior to the 22nd of August, anyone who fails to do so will be accompanied by Ministry officials to their interview.

Yours sincerely,

Dolores Umbridge

Senior undersecretary to the Minister

Head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission

Ministry of Magic"

'Not to mention an ugly toad who can't teach…' thought Dean nastily. The owl suddenly nudged Dean's arm with its head, "What?" Dean turned his head, all the beans had disappeared, "Oh, right." Dean poured more beans onto his desk, "Geez, first you talk non-stop, now you decide to exhaust my junk food supply!" He smiled to the owl who did not look at all perturbed by the accusations.

By the time Dean had placed the packet of beans back into his drawer, the owl was working its mouth happily, though not on the beans.

"Oi! What the…Oi! Stop ripping that!" cried Dean, but it was too late, the owl had already shredded the invitation into several strips of parchment.

"There are better things to eat than paper, ok?" Dean gathered the pieces and threw them into his bin, the owl had already regained its previous state of indifference and was eating what looked like a cookie flavoured bean.

Dean ignored the owl and took the note from Seamus out of his pocket, he went over to his trunk, which he had not yet finished unpacking, and rummaged through his various books, quills and parchments before he found the galleon Hermione had bewitched. Stuffing it into his pocket, he vowed to keep it near him from now on, so he would know exactly when someone tried to communicate to him.